


Mary Sue and the Kennel Club

by Shanola (LFN_Archivist)



Category: La Femme Nikita
Genre: Animal Transformation, Gen, Humor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-11
Updated: 2018-11-11
Packaged: 2019-08-21 20:39:02
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,553
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16583750
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LFN_Archivist/pseuds/Shanola
Summary: This story was originally posted to the LFN Storyboard Archives by Shanola.





	Mary Sue and the Kennel Club

Her phone had rung early. It had rung again, later. It rung again, even later. But Mary Sue didn't hear it because she wasn't home. 

Once she finally DID get home, her cell phone rang. Sighing, she answered it, knowing it could only be Section One, the most covert anti-terrorist agency on the planet. Briefly, Mary Sue wondered if there was a more covert anti-terrorist group _off_ the planet somewhere. Perhaps in Uranus? Maybe, though she knew it was NOT in HER anus! 

She pushed the thought away and turned her attention to the phone. It kicked and screamed and bit until she had to throttle it with both hands and force it into the bathroom of her mind. The thought, not the phone. I mean, the _thought_ kicked and screamed and bit and. . . Mind clear, Mary Sue answered the phone. 

"Hullo." Not a question, because it didn't have a question mark at the end. Instead, she said it flatly, like a sentence. Because it was a sentence, or else it would have had a question mark at the end. 

Mary Sue spoke the word, then waited for her code name. 

"Yip! Yip!" came the response. 

Mary Sue yanked the phone from her ear and looked at it. Her ear was shell shaped and perfectly reflected in the handy mirror next to her. The gold earring she wore was in place and her long tresses were tucked neatly behind her dainty ear. 

She turned her attention to the cell-phone. What was this Yip! Yip!? It was not her code name, not even close. Her code name was New Orleans. EVERYONE knew that! Cautiously, she put the phone back to her ear. 

"Hullo?" she tried again, this time forming it into a question complete with the question mark at the end. 

"Woof! Woof!" A deep woofing greeted her this time. 

"What's the meaning of this?" Mary Sue demanded. In the background, she could still hear the Yip-yipping over the deep woofing that responded to her. 

"I'm sorry," Mary Sue finally said. "You've got the wrong number." Carefully, she flipped the phone closed then grabbed her coat. 

Something was dreadfully wrong in Section. 

Thank goodness she was Mary Sue and could save them all! 

From. . . whatever it was that had happened. 

**** 

Nothing Mary Sue had ever experienced could have prepared her for the sight that greeted her once she got to Section. Well, except that time she was undercover as a Retail Worker. THAT might have helped her prepare. Still, it was a shock. 

When the elevator doors had opened and she'd stepped into the gray tunnel that was Section, the first thing she'd noticed was the smell. 

Wet dog. She wrinkled her nose and stepped forward. Instantly she slid, one leg going too far forward too fast. Throwing her hands into the air in an elegantly wild display that, in a parallel universe, is used in the mating rituals of young Alpha Birds, Mary Sue managed to regain her balance. Then caught her hands just as they were about to attract a mate. 

"What the-!" She muttered, straightening. Then another smell greeted her. Disbelieving, Mary Sue braced herself against the wall and turned her shoe up so she could see the sole. 

Crap. Literally. 

"Gaaah!" Mary Sue said. And then, "Gaaah! Gaaah!" As she struggled to scrape the offending crap off the sole of her spiked heels. Her _Signature Shoes_ no less! 

Once completed, Mary Sue drew her gun and advanced slowly to the hub of Section. 

As she suspected, chaos greeted her. 

And many, many dogs. 

Mary Sue lowered her gun and pursed her ruby red lips as she took in the scene. Once in, she tried to digest it. It was impossible. Mainly because it was a _scene_ and her eyes couldn't really _digest_ anything. It was physically impossible. Now of course, if she'd been in some other fanfic, it might be possible. She could, actually, think of at least ONE other fandom where digestion via the eyes could be possible, in fact. Alas, this was not one of those fandoms. Well, at least not until Madeline finished her project on Level Nine, anyway. 

Instead, she settled on looking at it. 

In the glass perch that marked Operations lair, a miniature white poodle ran in circles, chasing it's tail. Operations always did love a good piece of tail, Mary Sue thought shaking her head. 

"Rowowowowoow!" a blonde Yorkie dog ran up to Mary Sue, yipping madly. Mary Sue cocked an eyebrow at it as it began to run around her, snapping. There was only one person THIS could be, Mary Sue thought. 

"Nikita! Hush!" The Yorkie ceased it's annoying yapping and crouched to pee. 

"No, no, Nikita!" Mary Sue called, but it was too late. A puddle of yellow urine decorated the floor. Mary Sue sighed and moved further into the hub of Section. 

A huge Saint Bernard sprawled on the floor at Walter's station, a red handkerchief tied around his throat. He wuffed as she walked by, raised his head, then sighed and flopped back down. 

Mary Sue made her way to Comm. Perhaps Birkoff was unaffected. She looked around, then turned her attention to the computer console. A screen was up. Mary Sue rolled the computer chair back and sat. 

"Yip! Yip!" Mary Sue sprang from her seat and turned to look in the chair. A small, short-haired Italian Greyhound jumped out of the chair and ran to cower under the other desk. Mary Sue closed her eyes. Birkoff. 

More carefully this time, Mary Sue sat and rolled the chair forward. The screen was blinking and Mary Sue tapped a few buttons. Two large letters appeared on the screen. Two very large, white letters. Two very large, white letters with legs. 

"KK" Mary Sue felt dread clutch her stomach like a vice. Carefully, she turned the handle of the vice the other way and loosened it's pinch. At least she had an answer now. 

Section One had been attacked by the dreaded Kennel Klub! 

**** 

"Ah-HA!" Mary Sue exclaimed as she brought her fist down on the console. "That explains how everyone in Section was turned into a doggie!" Behind her, Nikita began to yap loudly. Birkoff cowered under the other chair and Walter whuffed then went back to sleep. 

Mary Sue tapped a few more keys, looking for a video of the transforming event. Was it a powder the dreaded KK had used? A gas? A vapooooooraaaaaaah! Mary Sue threw her head back against the chair in shock. Her eyes rolled back in her head and she gasped. 

As her chair began to move violently, she snapped her eyes open and managed to push back from the console. . . and the wet nose that was stuck in her crotch. She looked down between her legs. Staring back at her was a charcoal gray Weimaraner. Unique amber eyes stared back at her then the dog moved again towards her crotch. 

Mary Sue flushed and put a hand out on the sleek gray head to stop him. "Not now, Michael!" She said breathlessly. "Later, when you're in. . . better form," she pushed Michael away. Gawd, she thought. She liked it Doggie Style as much as the next person but. . . Gawd!! 

**** 

Mary Sue straightened her outfit. After the 'Wet Nose In Crotch' incident, she had changed into a nice pair of designer pants. They flowed smoothly over her perfect hips then ran down her lean thighs and cuddled her sculpted calves. She still had her spiked heels on, though. Her Signature Shoes, she thought dreamily to herself. 

Shaking her head, Mary Sue opened the door and left Michael's office. She'd changed in there rather than going to her six-room apartment within Section. Mary Sue stepped out and closed the door behind her. 

"Yip, yip, yip!" 

It was Nikita. Mary Sue frowned as the little jumping dog snarled at her. Michael trotted up beside Nikita and looked quizzically at her small blonde doggie-form before turning his unique amber-colored eyes back to Mary Sue. Mary Sue lifted an arched eyebrow as Michael moved toward her. 

"Michael. . . " she said throatily, "What are you-Oh!" 

Michael had happily stuck his nose into her crotch again. Mary Sue danced away, scowling. "No, no, Michael! No Nose-In-the-Crotch right now! Bad dog! Bad!" 

Michael's tail drooped and he lowered his head sadly. Mary Sue felt her heart break at his reaction to her harsh words. She crouched down and took his elegant head between her hands. "Sweet doggie. Mary Sue is sorry she was so mean. Yes she is! You're a good doggie, good doggie! Whooshee, mooshee, mooo!" Her voice trailed off into the high notes of doggie speak as Michael began to wiggle happily under her hands. 

A blonde streak caught her attention. Mary Sue released Michael and turned. Nikita was diligently dragging her butt across the floor. Mary Sue stood still, uncertain what to make of this action. She felt her jaw drop open. How far could Nikita go like that? Mary Sue watched as Nikita continued to drag her butt across the main hub of Section, through the circle of light that shone from above, past the briefing table and into the hallway that lead to van access. When the little blonde dog had disappeared, Mary Sue shook her head in disbelief. 

"Amazing," she said, then started to walk. She had to find Madeline. 

**** 

The trek through Section had been much more harrowing than Mary Sue thought it could ever be. Everywhere she turned there were dogs. And the smell of dogs. And the little 'gifts' dogs liked to leave behind. Her Signature Shoes were taking a beating! Finally, after a narrow escape from a rather large 'gift', Mary Sue stood at the doorway to Madeline's office. She quickly punched the code in that opened the door. 

Thinking back, Mary Sue supposed she expected to find Madeline still human. After all, someone had dialed the phone to call her in. So it was only natural, then, that the growling, barking Doberman Pincher startled her. When she had finished screaming and her heart had slowed back to its normal, perfectly healthy pace, Mary Sue blinked. This delicate, but deadly brown dog had to be Madeline. Of course it was Madeline. Madeline had a knack for brown and now she had it in spades. 

Speaking of spades, Mary Sue noted for the first time that Madeline was not alone. All around the room lay dogs of various shapes and sizes. And every last one of them was male. 

Mary Sue quirked an eyebrow. "Madeline," she said putting her hands on her hips, "you are SUCH a BITCH!" 

~~~~~~~~~~~ 

Threading her way past the many 'gifts' for the second time, Mary Sue made her way to the Perch where Ops was still chasing his tail. Following behind her was Madeline. Following behind Madeline was a long line of male doggies. When they reached the Perch, Mary Sue was pleased to note that Madeline turned on her male following and growled low in her throat. As a group, they all sat. Madeline turned, her poise regal, her bearing elegant, as she waited for Mary Sue to open the door. 

As soon as the door slid open, the miniature white poodle that was Ops stopped chasing his tail and began to jump up into the air. He stopped as Madeline made her way into the room. For a moment, nothing happened. All was still. Then, Ops ran to Madeline and they each began to sniff the other's butt. 

Mary Sue rolled her eyes. Then she frowned. Was she supposed to turn her back on this sort of behavior? Surely this was unacceptable form for anyone in Section! But. . . was this a PRIVATE moment? Should she leave them alone while they engaged in this rather intimate 'get to know you' session? What were the protocols she should follow? And, more importantly, how would this affect her sleep habits for the rest of her life? 

Sighing, Mary Sue turned her back on the butt-sniffing session, focusing instead on the computer on the far wall of the Perch. Keying in a coded message, she pulled up a video of what had transpired earlier. It appeared that a gas of some sort had been put into the ventilation system of Section One, thus turning everyone into a dog. 

Something clicked in Mary Sue's brain, and it wasn't teeth. It was obvious the Kennel Klub, evil, dastardly, terrorist group that they were, had been planning their ultimate collaring of Section One to coincide with the annual Dog Show of Evil Dastardly Terrorist Groups From Around the World. Last year, they had come in second in Best of Show and this year, well, this year they had obviously wanted to leash very best in order to ensure the famed Evil Dastardly Terrorist Groups From Around the World Shiny Silver Cup went home with them. 

So. All she had to do, was figure out the right combination of chemicals to create the antidote, figure out how to make it into a gas, figure out how to put it in the ventilation system AND keep her shoes dry. 

No problem! She was, after all, Mary Sue! 

**** 

As soon as Mary Sue stepped into the main hub of Section One, she was doused in a spray of water. Behind her, Madeline growled. Behind Madeline, the long line of male doggies that continuously followed her, growled in unison. Ops whined, then began to run around the room, stopping every so often to lift a leg and let the world know just exactly WHO owned Section One! 

Stiff and dripping water, Mary Sue looked for the source. To one side, Walter stood, his massive Saint Bernard form still dripping. Where the heck did he find so much water, Mary Sue wondered. There were no water dishes in Section One! In fact, the only water on THIS level would be in the bathrooms. Mary Sue stiffened. The _bathrooms_! She had just started to wipe the water from her eyes when Walter shook again, dousing her once more and ensuring that she was thoroughly coated in Eau du Wet Dog. Or should that be Eau du Toilet? 

Peachy. 

Mary Sue scowled beatifically as Walter whuffed at her, then flopped on the floor, apparently satisfied his job was done. She stepped over his bulky form and made her way to comm. 

"Yip, yip, yip!" 

It was Nikita again. She was bouncing around the room after Ops. Mary Sue sighed, then chose to ignore the two yapping dogs and concentrate on the computer. First, she had to pick Birkoff up from where he lay curled across the keyboard. Mary Sue shook her still-wet hair and sighed. Italian Greyhounds. 

She dumped him on the floor then began keying in Ernest, (even though she had never met the man herself). Red Cell had had this problem a few years ago, Mary Sue knew. All she had to do was break into their files and steal the cure. She set about her task in earnest, kicking off her Signature Shoes so she could curl her toes for better concentration. 

Four hours later, her task was complete, though she had to bypass some of the more interesting files she'd found listed in Red Cell's database. Files with intriguing names like _How to Get Close to Someone You Don't Know and Don't Care to Know Because You Are Going to Kill Them_ and _3001 Uses for Duct Tape and Nails_ and, of course, _What Section One Wishes It Knew But Doesn't So Nyaah!_. 

Mary Sue removed the tiny little shiny disk and shut down the program she was using. Leaning waaaay back in her chair, she stretched. Her fingers reached for the ceiling of Section One, her toes spread out and pointed to the floor, though they weren't touching it at the moment. As the pleasurable spasms of stretching wore themselves out, Mary Sue lowered her feet and began to pat around on the floor searching for her Signature Shoes. Behind her, a wet growling issued. 

Mary Sue bent down and looked under the desk when her feet couldn't find her shoes immediately. Leave it to the eyes, always the eyes! She thought, but stopped dead when her eyes couldn't find the spiked shoes either. Behind her, a wet growl issued. Again. 

Slowly, Mary Sue straightened. Slowly, Mary Sue turned. Slowly, Mary Sue took in the scene that had once been behind her but was now vividly in front of her. Nikita was eating her shoes. Her SIGNATURE shoes! NIKITA WAS EATING HER SIGNATURE SHOES!!!! 

Mary Sue leapt to her feet waving her arms wildly, but gracefully. Nikita, that yippy little Yorky-dog, watched for a moment, then jumped up and, dragging a tasty shoe, trotted away. Mary Sue followed, quickly retrieving one chewed shew and waving it above her head as she yelled. 

It was not a pretty sight. 

As soon as Mary Sue had managed to grasp her poor, wayward shoe in one hand, Walter, Birkoff, Michael, Madeline, and yes, even Operations, joined the ruckus. It was loud. It was slobbery. It was quite a sight. And when it was all over, Mary Sue stood triumphant, the recaptured shoe held aloft over her lovely head as she scolded the mischievous doggies around her. 

"Bad doggies! Bad, BAD! You mustn't take Mommy's Signature Shoes anymore, no, no, no! Mommy's shoes! Mommy's!" She waved the shoe around as she made her point. All the dogs cowered down and watched her with soulful eyes. Except Nikita, of course, who refused to listen because it was against her nature to listen to anyone who said things she did not like. 

The scolding over, Mary Sue donned her Signature Shoes again, although one spiked heel had been chewed down to a mere six inches instead of the usual eight and her big toe protruded most delicately from a hole in the tip. The other shoe was fine, except for a few chew marks at the base of the heel and, of course, the dog hairs that were permanently stuck in the dried slobber that Nikita had graciously left behind. 

Mary Sue retrieved the little shiny disk she had used to copy the antidote onto and began, somewhat awkwardly, to make her way to Walter's armory. She needed a chemical lab and naturally, Walter's weapons area was the best place to be. 

A little of this and a little of that and soon she had a vial of rather vile stuff that was supposed to reverse the curse the dreaded Kennel Klub had laid on Section One. Mary Sue looked thoughtfully at the vial she held. She needed a test subject. Someone who wouldn't be missed if the vial of vile stuff was wrong. Who should she choose? 

"Yip, yip, yip!" 

Mary Sue quirked an eyebrow and looked down. She smiled, her lips curling ever so softly against her perfect white teeth. Before her, Nikita jumped and bounced and yipped. 

**** 

Mary Sue stared at the little blonde Yorkie dog nipping at her Signature Shoes as she tried to think whom to test the maybe-cure on. "Of course!" She exclaimed in delight. "I need an abeyance operative!" 

Mary Sue clutched the vial of vile stuff in her dainty hand and began to make her way out of Walter's work area. Nikita, yipping, followed. 

She had just stepped out into the main hub of Section when Michael approached on silent padded feet, Walter close on his heels. Mary Sue lifted the vial high as she tried to wade through the dogs surrounding her. 

"Doh!" Mary Sue was pushed forward by a large weight on her right leg. Something grasped her thigh, weighing her down. "What the--??" Mary Sue complained as the weight shifted and shifted again. She looked down to her leg. To her horror, a dog was pumping vigorously, trying to shag her leg. Not just any dog, either. 

_Madeline_! 

Nikita romped around as Mary Sue tried to drag herself away from the sex crazed Madeline. This was worse than she ever thought possible! Here she was with a maybe-cure and before she could test it, Madeline was madly humping her leg! Drat! 

Mary Sue staggered, trying not to step on Operations, who had joined Nikita in a hearty round of Ring Around the Horrified Mary Sue. Walter and Michael waded against her. Mary Sue teetered, fighting for precious balance amongst the two big dogs, the two romping little dogs and one large humping dog. She had it, she thought, under. . . . . . control. . . . . . steeeeeady. . . STEEEEADY! 

And then Michael, that beautiful piece of flesh no matter WHAT form he was in, stuck his large, wet nose in her crotch. Again. 

"AAAAAAAHHHHHH!" Mary Sue yelled as she stumbled, arms flailing, with this last assault. "AAAAAAAHHHHHH!" again as Walter insisted on his own turn at crotch-sniffing. 

Looking back, Mary Sue couldn't ever be certain what exactly happened next, but she did remember seeing the vial land squarely on a certain little blonde yippy dog. She watched, transfixed, as Nikita whimpered once, then began to grow. And grow. Huge gobs of blonde hair sprouted, turned gray and white and curled. And still Nikita grew. Madeline released Mary Sue's leg, Michael and Walter sat curiously on the floor, heads tilted as they watched. Operations, too, stopped and watched silently. And Nikita grew. And grew. 

When she had finally stopped growing, Mary Sue felt her own thickly-lined-with-eyelashes-eyes go wide in astonishment. Her hands flew to her mouth and she gasped, "Nikita! You're a _Sheepdog_!" 

***** 

It didn't take long for the shock of Nikita's second transformation to wear off. Nikita, in fact, adapted amazing well. She and Walter, now equal in size, began to chase each other around Section, their huge bodies knocking over chairs and sending disks skittering across the floor. Michael didn't fair so well. He sat, dejected head down, and began to, er. . . clean himself (as all dogs will do). Operations joined him and soon, Mary Sue was listening to a chorus of curious "MmmmmNarf" sounds as they, er. . . cleaned themselves. 

But it gave her time to recover from Nikita's second transformation. Nikita a sheepdog? Yeah, it fit. The hair, you know. But. . . was that her true form? No way, Mary Sue realized. The formula just wasn't complete! She would have to try again. 

Determinedly, Mary Sue turned back to Walter's area. Grabbing a vial, she added some of this and some of that and a leetle more of THIS and viola! Perfection! She could tell because, well, she _was_ Mary Sue, after all! 

Now, how to administer it? She didn't have time to make it into a gas and distribute it through the air vents like the Kennel Klub had! And wouldn't that be predictable and boring if she _did_? Mary Sue was _never_ predictable. You could set your watch by that fact! So. What to do? A little light bulb clicked on over Mary Sue's head. Of course! Hobbling on her now uneven Signature Shoes, Mary Sue gathered all the garbage cans Section One had to offer. There were actually quite a few. She had, naturally, left the ones in the bathrooms, though. 

Carefully, Mary Sue poured a bit of the powder into each garbage can, making certain it was evenly spread throughout the trash within. Finally, her task completed, she put the lids back on, purposely leaving them unsecured. Proudly, she stood back and watched. 

On one side of the room, Michael and Operations and Birkoff were still er. . . cleaning themselves. Madeline was lounging with her entourage of male doggies (who were also er. . . cleaning themselves) and Walter and Nikita were. . . .GOOD GRACIOUS!!! It appeared as though Walter and Nikita were. . . .STUCK! Mary Sue cringed, the events of the day crashing down on her. It had been bad enough to have Madeline in the form of a large, brown Doberman humping on her leg but to see Walter and Nikita in this way. . . .it was just too much! 

"CATS!!!!" Mary Sue screamed as she fought off revulsion. "Why couldn't you all be CATS?!?" 

Curious, all the motion stopped and all doggies turned their sad, soulful eyes in her direction. Mary Sue paused, her eyes darting around the room while they were still attached in place in their sockets (for which Mary Sue was very grateful). Then, realizing she had everyone's attention, she casually began to stroll away from the line of garbage cans. 

As she went, hands tucked in her pockets, she loudly said, "Well, I've got the trash taken out!" Another few steps. "Sure do hope the garbage men get here before the dogs can get to it!" Another few steps. She was at the door and still no dogs had moved. Mary Sue bobbed her head, looking around. She had them now! "Well, I've got to TAKE MY EYES OFF THIS TRASH HERE BUT ONLY FOR A SECOND!" Then she turned the corner and was out of sight. 

It was over within a few moments. She peeked around the corner to find trash strewn everywhere. In the middle, operatives sat in stunned confusion. But they were PEOPLE Operatives! Mary Sue entered the room, looking around with a beauteous smile lighting her features. Michael gracefully rose from his pile of trash and elegantly walked to his office. Madeline rose from her pile of trash assisted by an unruffled Operations. Birkoff crawled down off his desk in the Comm center and across the room Walter adjusted his bandanna. Nikita sat in her pile of trash, big fat tears rolling down her cheeks. 

"Why?" she cried. "Why??" 

Mary Sue ignored her. Instead, she frowned at Nikita's outfit. And the fact that she was wearing one at all. But. . . the dogs didn't have little outfits on. Where did the clothes go when they all changed into dog form? Did they just become a part of them? If so, why weren't they all BLACK dogs, then? And how come the clothes reappeared completely unwrinkled? Did everyone wear polyester and just not admit to it? Hmm. . . 

"Mary Sue." Mary Sue pulled her thoughts away from clothes at the sound of Madeline's voice. 

"Yes?" Mary Sue answered. 

She met the stare of Operations blue gaze. 

{{"Hi, I'm Mary Sue," she said. 

"I know. I'm the stare of Operation's gaze. I'm blue!" it replied cheerily. 

"Kewl," Mary Sue said. "Can we get on with the end of this story? It's been a long day." 

"Oh. Right. I'll just hang out a bit with your lovely violet-blue-green-brown orbs, okay?" 

Mary Sue nodded her assent.}} 

"Good job Mary Sue," Operations said. 

She nodded again, "Thank you," she replied then stood aside as Madeline and Operations passed by. 

"Oh and, Mary Sue?" It was Madeline. 

Mary Sue turned to face her waiting expectantly. 

Madeline smiled a teeny smile. "Get this mess cleaned up." 

Mary Sue watched as the two leaders of Section One left. Then very slowly she pulled out her cell phone and dialed a number. 

"Send in housekeeping. And for God's sake, tell them to bring the Febreeze! And some Pooper Scoopers, too." Mary Sue looked around, "Big ones!" Then she hung up the phone and elegantly clip-clopped her way out of Section. 

She had a DATE to get ready for!


End file.
